


Upside Down

by Cocoleia



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Angst, Bad Decisions, Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, Hurt, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:06:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoleia/pseuds/Cocoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piers is back after the incident in China, Chris takes on the mission to let him stay at his place, but soon things aren't what they seem to be anymore and it seems something; perhaps everyone they know, want to get in their way and even turn them against each other. But to what purpose? Will they open their eyes before it's too late? P/C, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I woke up to the smell of cigarettes and fruity shampoo filling my nostrils.

Obviously it was I who smelt from it, I was alone in bed. It felt like it was in the middle of the night, and I was awake. I do not know _why_ I woke up, but I had obviously done it.

The wake up-alarm was on the side of my bed. It read 4:29. It wasn't the alarm's fault; it hadn't even been used, but yet I gave away a cry that sounded like a grunting child who had to go up to school. At least that's what I think I sounded like. Not that I actually cared, it's just that I hoped I could have slept for half an hour longer, _least._

Not that that made any sense.

But what _did_ make sense these days, anyway?

Oh well. Maybe he agrees to an early breakfast once in a while.

Oh right. _He_. He got here last night. I'm no longer alone here. No longer is it just me who is going to sit at the table to read the newspaper.. okay, maybe _that_ it is, I actually don't know about his morning routines yet, but still.

I've never thought of him as the newspaper reading-kind of guy, anyway, and that certainly isn't the point, because _he_ is back.

Who gives a shit about newspapers then?

My partner came back from the dead.

Well, sort of.

I swallowed thickly; got prepared to get out of bed. Just let what I just thought run off me. I didn't want to scare myself again. I mean, he did a damn good job with it himself, letting me believe I lost him like that.

I was afraid for seven months until this moment came.

I saw his face nowhere but in my imaginations until yesterday.

He didn't feel like talking yesterday, but today I hope that I'll get a few more words from him.

I step out of the bed, open the wardrobe and grab a clean shirt.

' _I'm sorry, Captain..'_

I would need a pair of pants too, by the way.

' _I did it, for the BSAA; for the future..'_

I had heard it replaying so many times in my head since he left me, after _I_ had left _him_ , involuntarily, that I hardly noticed it anymore.

Damn, he sure didn't give me any choice in that facility, did he?

"Captain?"

I'm glad he decided to show up before the funeral was set. How much of a breaking-down point wouldn't that have been?

"Chris?"

It would definitely have killed me.

I put my shirt on.

Not that it's a guarantee I wouldn't have already anyway.

I didn't mind putting those other pants on, I'd do that later.

And not that it would have been bad in any way, come to think of it.

I turn abruptly which I usually do when this comes up in my mind. I turn my head down to the ground and am not stopped properly until I come to the doorway. I nearly bump into something. Apparently, that is what it takes for me to wake up.

He repeats my title.

That 'something' was him.

I sure need to start realizing not everything is in my mind anymore.

"Yeah, Piers. Was it something you wanted?"

He looks at me hesitantly for a few seconds, so I take the opportunity to inspect him in the meantime. The color of one eye has faded slightly, and the wounds are still there but it is still nowhere near as noticeable as they had been seven months ago. The wounds on his face have healed really well, and his arm is pretty much in human size. It is really good to see that he is responding well to treatment.

Did I watch it for too long? Why was he so quiet?

"Actually not, I just heard that you were awake and all.."

I couldn't help myself from smiling a bit at that one. I don't have an idea why, but I did. And it must have looked quite stupid.

If he thought so he hid it very well, at least. He smiled back, and he brought that well-known smile of his; that smile that suits him so well.

Should I make a gesture towards the bed or out the door to let us sit at the table for our talk, or perhaps even the couch?

I glanced quickly towards the bed standing beside me. That would definitely not be a good idea. What would he think of me if I made a gesture at that thing?

I raised my hand and was just about to gesture for him to get to the kitchen; the only problem is that he was already sitting on the bedside. Alright, if he doesn't have a problem with that, I sure as hell don't have a problem with it either.

My mind was telling me to break the silence, but it went very slowly, and I wasn't allowed to do more than take one step at the time. I started by sitting next to him.

"Piers.. I'm really glad that you are back, you know?"

I realized myself how stupid it sounded to sit there and stare at him like a fool, telling him those words as if he had only been gone in an hour or so. I didn't have the time to say anything else, though. Not for a few seconds, at least. He turned his eyes to mine immediately, and it was enough. It _would_ have been enough. But he opened his mouth, closed it again, and chewed on a word in silence before he opened it again, hesitantly.

"I'll try not to be a burden to you, Captain. Thanks for letting me stay here."

He half-smiled.

I still wanted an answer, though. But I didn't know if I would get it by just repeating it. Maybe I had to develop my question further.

"You know I missed you, right?"

I lay a hand on his thigh, regretting my action slightly, just giving him a light pat on his leg instead of holding it on its place which was my first plan. Well, actually my first plan was to.. it doesn't matter. I wanted to comfort him, but I could feel him tense under my hand, so I took it away carefully, but quickly.

"Should I know it?"

I don't know if I should take it as the question was spelled or as a pure 'no', but I am hoping that it doesn't mean the second option. I would have to be the giver of the 'yes' -answer this time, because he _should_ have known.

"Yeah, do you even have to ask such things?"

"Is that why you're doing that, Chris?"

By the thought of how fast he answered me, he must have thought that answer out well. An eyebrow was raised and he had this surprised expression upon his face, but he didn't look back at me. He looked down at his own fingers. The first thing that struck me then was that I had done something wrong.

My mouth suddenly gets dry.

"What do you mean?" I try keeping my voice even, viewing flashbacks in my head of the evening before to hopefully get myself a reminder. It doesn't work too well.

I feel the bed lightly weigh down on my right side. He is moving a few inches closer, leaning against me, letting his hot breath reveal itself upon my ear. My eyes keep looking at the wall in front of me so I can't see him, not even in the corners of them. But my mind registers it; I know it does, those shivers are crawling down my spine like crazy.

"I mean, is that why you're taking your hands off of me?"

I almost forget that I was just in need of a glass of water when I hear him talking with that special tone that only he is worthy of using.

And it only gets worse when he takes my hand and places it on his thigh again.

I caress the top of his leg for a moment, watching his reactions; feel how he grasps around my shoulders. I'm wondering if perhaps I should ask him any of the questions now.

I reach the inside of his thigh, he closes his eyes, leans back a bit, and I find it's best if we take them a while later.

I'm sure there's time for it.

He opens his eyes and I think I can see just a small amount of lust there. There is not enough time to think further of it, though. What began slowly is now moving very quickly forward, and I don't know how to feel about it.

All I know is that I want to see more of him, relish him a bit more.

I am going to get my senses right to take _this_ slowly, at least.

I put a hand against his cheek, turning him against me to let our faces come closer together.

My thumb rolls at his lower lip, down his chin, and I can feel how he breathes against my lips, he waits patiently, but I won't wait. I've never been as patient as him.

I press our lips together, and he reacts in such a way that I almost start to wonder about whether he wants this, or if he is just shocked about my sudden outburst. No exploration seems to want to be made, so I let him just play with the feeling of a pair of alien lips on his own for a few seconds.

I'm not sure if he responds, or tries to interrupt my kiss, but I'll continue for a little longer, because I myself don't want this to end yet.

Is that selfish?

Thank god everything falls into place just then.

I put my hand behind his head, he puts his hand around the back of my neck, and we move on to what we are doing. He parts his lips, I part my lips, and our tongues meet somewhere along the way, making up for a battle. He tastes like a mixture of something sweet; something that I can't put my fingers to what it is exactly, but I bet it is his signature.

He breaks the kiss, rests his forehead against mine for a moment, starts tearing at my shirt without taking it off, slips down from the bed, finds his location in front of me on the floor between my legs and I was just about wondering what he was doing until he watches me with that look upon on his face that screams of innocence.

I know now that I have an animal inside of me that is caged, but I don't know if I want to let it out.

But it's too late as he starts doing magical things with his hands, and that I say without him even having gone beneath the material of my pants.

"Piers, you don't.. you don't have to do this."

He chuckles lightly at my attempt on building a coherent sentence, but he doesn't do much more about what I said apart from that.

"Alright old man, save your breaths."

It doesn't take more than a second before he has already pushed my pants down a bit, and from that moment it all goes really fast. So fast that I'll have to let everything he said pass. He takes my length and starts stroking it slowly a few times. Almost painfully slow, actually. But he doesn't stick with it for too long since he leans forward, flicks his tongue at the tip and starts wrapping his lips around the top; slowly engulfing it inch by inch.

I tighten my grip in his hair, but I don't push him further in any way, he's already struggling, trying to fit everything as it is; I only need to keep my hands somewhere, to grasp something.

His rhythm is perfect.

He works me with the feeling of his heated tongue, with the muscles in his throat tightening around me.

It feels great.

He's going deeper.

And he's going to send me over the edge.

"Piers, I,"

My warning gets disturbed by sharp exhales.

He moves back to the top, quickens the pace with his hand, and I cum in his mouth.

He swallows, gives a tiny lick upon his lips and raises himself up to stand in front of me, grabbing my head in his hands while I put everything back in place.

I'm still panting harshly, but the noises get stifled by me burying my face in his standing figure, I choose a position somewhere around his hipbone.

I wrap my arms around his legs and we stand like that for just a moment.

I could have stayed there for longer if it wouldn't have been for us having to get going soon, well, at least _me_ having to get going soon. I'm not even sure where it is I -or we- are supposed to be going today. Something just clicked. But I guess I'm finding that out soon enough.

"We should get dressed, they won't be very happy about us not getting there in time, will they?

He is saying it as if he has just read my thoughts; pulling his fingers through my short hair, trying to intertwine curls between his fingers. Not with much of a success, of course.

"Why did you pull that crap all those months ago?"

I know this can mean risk losing his smile for a while, but I have to ask.

The sentence stopped us from moving us for a while, so it seems we will be frozen for a while longer.

" I think you know why I had to do what I did, Chris."

That he would turn into one of them?

That none of us would make it?

I had heard it from Claire, Jill; hell, _Leon_ had even told me the same thing, so somehow I knew I would hear the same explanation from him. I didn't want to hear it again, though, so I cut it off like that, without asking him any lead-question.

They just didn't seem to understand.

I would explain it to him eventually. Just not today. I think it still wasn't the right time.

"You shouldn't have done it, Piers. It could as well have been me."

I get up, pull him towards me and keep him in an embrace.

"Don't say it like that, Captain."

"I just did," I give him a chaste kiss on his forehead, and continue speaking. We can't let this conversation get any further right now, or else I will end up saying something stupid. "Now let's go get ready, shall we?"

He nods in defeat and his wrist ends up being in my hand when I start leading him out to the kitchen.

We don't have much time, but we'll do what we can to make it in time.

If we don't manage to I'm sure they can accept a few minutes of delay.


	2. Chapter 2

I pull on my boots and throw up the door out of the apartment, run down the stairs and to the parking lot where my car stands. He keeps the pace closely behind me, and the reason we are half-running is that we actually are in a hurry. We even hurried to get us prepared, we couldn't do all of the 'usual morning-stuff' since we have to be at the headquarters early today and we actually spent the time devoted to our.. well, _'talking'_.

But I think we will do pretty alright now.

It's his first day there since _it_ happened, and it's not like I'm even going to let him get thrown into some stack of needles; there'll just be meetings, some training.. the ordinary stuff they do to see if you are appropriate to come back, and what you're able to deal with for the moment.

I think that's a good idea. The BSAA may be important to him, but he can't get out any missions too early, and that is because of several important reasons that I have come up with. I certainly don't try to be selfish in any way, it's for his own good, of course; and I won't do much more myself for a while, actually, since I'm the one who is supposed to look after him.

I glance at his direction as soon as he finds his seat beside me in the car, and I can definitely tell he is nervous. I don't know if the nervousness comes from the realization that his life starts coming back to him or if he's just scared, but I know what I see _now_ , and I know what I rarely _have_ seen before; and this is one of those things.

He has his eyes locked on something in front of him that really have seemed to caught his interest, and I realize I can't possibly dig into what is on his mind without his acceptance, so I do the same thing; I lock my eyes on the road ahead of us.

I don't know if I should say something, it might not be a good idea to make it sound obvious that he looks afraid, but on the other hand; he _do_ look like someone in need of a few consoling words at this moment.

"I think I forgot that document they wanted me to bring."

"You know, it's going to go just fine, Piers."

I was not referring to the forgotten document or whatever he had just been saying, but he had almost been able to say the whole sentence before I started mine, so of course it sounded like it.

"You think so?"

He had stopped searching through his bag, we stopped by a red-light, and he was now looking at me with that unsure look that the car's front window recently had got a taste of.

I know that it has to do with more than _this_ conversation, but perhaps I should just stick with this theory.

"Yeah, some lost papers here and there shouldn't make any difference. You have been part of the team before."

I wasn't expecting him to get any calmer by these words, and when we were parking the car outside the headquarters just a few seconds later I knew we couldn't do anything more about this so I let everything else be kept unsaid. Of course I hoped that I would have been able to, but I felt kind of helpless, so we got out of the car and I looked at my watch quickly to find I actually was right about us doing okay with the time limits. We had got here in time, and we even had a few minutes left.

I wouldn't mind wasting a minute or two out here, but we start walking towards the door, he is in front of me; holding his arms tightly against himself, and I am like a victim to his lead.

We are on the inside of the doors before I even have the chance to blink twice and I am pulled from my thoughts by a somewhat recognizable voice who greets me.

"Hey, Captain Redfield!"

The blonde guy with the recognizable voice is coming towards us and he's smiling enthusiastically as he usually does which is quite rare to see in this corridor, but on the other hand; he _is_ quite unusual apart from everyone else here.

"Good morning Winters."

I offer him a small smile, but when I follow his gaze soon afterwards and see what he's watching, I also take the chance to look at something else and my eyes land on Piers. He feels nothing as he looks down at the ground and nervously emits heavy breathing sounds.

And once again I don't know why I'm being so damn helpless.

"You're Piers Nivans, right?"

He puts his hand on Piers shoulder and shakes him lightly to make eye contact, he succeeds; well, let's say he _half_ succeeded since _I_ am the one who's being met with wide-open, much too frightened eyes. His mouth opens and closes again, before he decides to nod instead.

"I've heard much about you. I'm Troy Winters, but you can just call me Troy."

"Uh, well, I think we should.."

I make a gesture towards I don't even know what, because that's the only way I can intervene over this whole thing.

"I bet you have a lot to do already Cap, so don't worry, we'll go and make something up. Right, Piers? You know where you are supposed to be heading?"

Troy turns around and leads him away without any response before waving with his hand towards me, disappearing around the corner until I can barely discern them anymore.

"Come to my office later, Piers!"

As expected, I'm not being given any sign of that my command has been heard so I'll just have to go with the thought that it simply has been and then do nothing else about it.

Something doesn't feel right, but the sound and the vibration from my cellphone disturbs me in my thoughts, so I pick it up from my pocket and ensure whatever it is it wants me.

It's a message from Claire.

_' **Hi bro, u haven't forgotten about me coming over tonight, have u?'**_

I continue walking through the hallway, my concentration is on the phone during the whole walk to my office and I wonder what I actually should answer that; I _had_ technically forgotten about the whole thing.

**_'Yeah Claire, I kinda' had. Thanks for reminding me._** '

I take out a stack of paper and decide to do some paper work, a few seconds later I realize that I must have forgotten how fast Claire is on managing a mobile.

' ** _It's cool, I'm still cmn over at 8 pm. That guy is there too now, btw?'_**

I open the drawer with my other hand and take the first best pen I can find before I sigh and slightly shake my head.

' ** _Yeah._** '

' ** _Looking forward 2 it. See u later bro!_** '

I put down the cell phone in my pocket and it strikes me that it has been quite a long time since I last saw her. It reminds me of when we were young; when we were always together, watching each other's backs. My nerves playing tricks on me right now reminded very much of how she probably felt when she was little and had nightmares and fears and I had to take the role of big brother.

The fact that she's coming over can only do good.

It is an extremely uneventful day, and time passes quickly whenever I sit by my desk to do paper work so the hours are fading away pretty fast. There is no one who even knocks at my door today, not even the one I had hoped and asked for to do so. My day here ends in precisely ten minutes, so I decide to go and look for Piers.

I see a lot of people on my way to the all too many different directions and rooms and I'm starting to lose hope in him still being here. The strange part of it all is that I haven't seen that Troy-kid anywhere either.

I'm just about to write a message to Piers when I read on the screen that I have received one, and it is from him.

**_'You can go without me, I will be back at 6._** '

I shrug lightly on my shoulder, keeping the pace while I go outside to my car.

He probably has a lot to do as he actually did come back after something big and this practically is his first day, it's probably nothing to make a big fuss about.

Somehow I'm actually just glad I got a reaction from him.

 

* * *

 

The drive was quiet as expected when riding alone, the radio played a number of meaningless songs that I couldn't help but relate to, but now I'm at home; has been for quite a while, and I'm preparing for what needs to be prepared.

It's far too quiet in here, and the quietness is starting to make the feeling of emptiness stronger; soon it will be up to the levels of how empty this apartment looks.

I try not to overthink the fact that he didn't keep his 'promise' to get home at 6, it isn't always easy to know how long something will take, but I can't help but wonder why he has to stay there longer than it was said. If something big happened, I know that someone would have contacted me, right?

I see a pack of cigarettes lying on the coffee table so I immediately take it and pull out a cigarette, light it, and draw a few soothing puffs before the bell goes off and almost makes me drop it on the floor.

This is one of few things that can calm me down.

I half run out to the hallway and open the door, but before I do I trouble myself with dumping the cigarette.

"Chris!"

I am met with a big smiling Claire and a pair of arms greeting me as soon as I open the door. I put my arms around her and she repeats my name with a different tone this time, with an added fake cough.

"Do you still smoke?"

She still smiles big but her nose is wrinkled to show me that she doesn't like the fact that I smoke. She has done that before, but I hadn't got a thought of that when I pulled those cigarette puffs just seconds before she stepped inside the door.

"Uh, yeah. It's really great seeing you, sis."

"You too, bro! Well, where is he?"

I take a look at Claire first before I take a look at the clock hanging on the wall with doubt. It read 8.12.

"You mean Piers? He's going to be a bit late."

I went into the living room and did Claire company who was already settled down on the couch. She followed me with her eyes, but I avoided it as best as I could, locating myself in front of the TV next to her.

"It's okay, we'll wait for him then. How is he?"

"I think he's doing fine."

"Well that's great news, after such trauma.."

The images on the TV was moving, and my eyes were like hypnotized. I think it was only for the better, though; to be led into something. Something else than just my thoughts.

"Yeah. How's Leon doing, by the way?"

She laughs a bit, I know she thinks I'm joking, but I'm not. This is my way to get her to talk about something entirely different.

"Leon? Since when did you care about him?"

"Since my little sister start having a crush on him, I guess."

I glare at her direction and smirk lightly. It's the least I can offer her. She hits me gently on the shoulder and shakes her head wildly so that her ponytail flies in all directions.

"You know that's so not true," her expression suddenly becomes serious when she looks up at me and I don't really know if I should keep looking her in the eye or glare discretely towards another direction, but the waiting period is not very long. "How are _you_ holding up, bro?"

"I'm fine, Claire."

She has always understood my hints, so she lets me slip away with that answer. She goes into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, and I switched through a variety of channels only to tire out my eyes. I hear that the lock to the door starts to open suddenly so I turn my attention that way.

It's dark in the hall, but I know that it's him. I stand silently up from the couch and walk towards that direction. I know that he knows that I am standing right in front of him, but he says nothing. The jacket he had on him earlier is gone, and he practically just stands there.

"Where the hell have you been?"

His face is turned abruptly from having stared down the ground to look straight up towards my direction, but his eyes are looking past me.

"You know where I've been, Chris. Just let me.."

He starts to walk a few steps, but I reach up a hand to stop him.

"For this long?"

One probably quite unaware Claire comes from the kitchen with an attempt at a smile and a cheerful greeting, Piers' eyes wander between us for a few seconds before he takes the opportunity and pushes my hand away.

"Please."

With that he rushes to the bedroom.

And maybe it's just me overthinking everything?

"What was it with him?", Claire sounds surprised, but I don't know if I'm as surprised as she is.

I sigh, decide to let him be for a while, hang out with Claire until she goes from here, I bid her a goodbye and nothing more is said about the whole incident for this evening.

I walk past his bedroom, the door is closed of course, and everything is quiet. Something inside me can't stop myself from opening the door and go in, though, so that's exactly what I do and my vision is met with something I always enjoyed watching.

I know that what I do is wrong, but I'm out of control, so I go closer. It looks peaceful, but something inside me hurts just then. Maybe it's because I wanted everything to be as peaceful as he is right now?

His phone is on the nightstand, and I don't really know what it is that drives me, but my hands get their own lives and suddenly the object is in my hands. I'm met by a neutral colored background, but I don't stop to look at it.

It doesn't take much longer until I see the messages, however.

One of them stands first.

**_Troy;_ **

**_'You forgot your jacket at my place.'_ **

And maybe that's the reason it hurt; the person you thought wouldn't lie lied.

I put back the mobile, sneak out of the room and throw myself into my own bed where I spend the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling.


	3. Chapter 3

I open my eyes in the morning and realize that it rings on the left side of me; it was the cell phone lying on the bed next to me, almost under me, and that was obviously the only thing I had had with me during this lengthy night. I didn't want to see a mobile right now, and I certainly didn't want to talk to anyone.

I rejected the call, not even bothering myself with looking up the number first, but that damned little thing started making the same annoying noises again.

I took the mobile in my hand again, sighed, saw that it was Jill calling and realized that I wasn't at the place I should be at. I probably have to take this call after all.

" _Hey sleepyhead, we're missing you at the quarters, where are you?"_

"Uh, hi Jill. I know, I'm on my way."

I pulled my fingers through my hair, got up and sat up on the bed while I heard her laugh easily and contentedly at the other end of the phone. I probably didn't sound very believable.

" _Come on, Chris. We both know you're still in bed._ "

I shook my head but didn't offer a smile this time which I usually do when she mocks with me; I was far away from in the mood for it right now. I remembered that Jill could read me pretty openly, so I got up from the bed and walked a few feet to start preparing for everything. First there was the call that had to be diverted.

"Well, _now_ I'm not."

" _Alright big guy, I believe you, so just drag yourself here before you miss out on the whole day."_

I ended the call, pretended that the line had just been cut off abruptly or something like that. I couldn't stand hearing someone that happy, not when I couldn't give anything back for it. Unfortunately; that is probably how everything would be forced to work out today.

I froze one of my movements, listening for some sort of signal that there was something different at home than just the thoughts in my head, but no.

Piers wasn't home, of course; he had already left, so the second thing I did was to go to the locker in the hallway and see if the car keys were in their usual spot; which they were, to my actual surprise. He must have gone there in another way today, and I'm not even sure I want to know the options how, with several reasons why.

I went into the bathroom; I had to drag my legs and the rest of my body with me that felt all too miserable when stepping into the shower. I put the water on almost the coldest degree, let it flow over my face; washing everything I felt right out of me, stopping somewhere in my thoughts of what on earth I'm trying to fool myself.

It didn't solve anything, and it certainly would not take any of what I felt away.

I agonized over how things would go when I would see him, and I never used to do so; but that was before he _lied_ to me. Before I realized _I_ would have to be the one taking decisions from now on, which I never used to have such big problems with doing, but, well; that was _before_ those suspicions started.

Should I make a scene about it all? What if it would be all in vain?

What if I didn't mention anything? Would it be too late for everything then?

I step out of the shower when I'm done with everything, but before I do that I beat my fist against the shower wall only because I am capable of doing so and because my nerves really start to get the best of me. Lucky for me the glass is safe and the only damage it brings is some pain; perhaps scratches, in my hand.

I dress myself; throw up the door and leave.

What else does life want me to do?

* * *

 

 "Hey Chris, over here!"

I was looking around the place with my eyes while walking slowly, but decisively, forward. I would have been blinded by the crowd unless she wouldn't have stood up and waved her arm, but I saw her eventually. I would never have come here; to this canteen, at all if it wouldn't have been for her instructions to do so either, but I had nothing to say about the whole thing.

She wanted me to come here, she said that it was here everyone were at this time of the day, and now that I was already here, seeing it for myself, I didn't doubt what she had said even for a second.

I continued walking, not looking so much around me, it was a few meters up to her table and I hadn't yet seen such a clear glimpse of it, but the seats around her looked quite empty. Not until I was on the opposite chair of hers, I looked up and nodded with a little smirk.

She glanced back at me, brought a bigger smile than mine while she rolled her eyes and laughed jokingly;

"Good to finally have you here, I was starting to doubt it for a second there."

"I kinda' got stuck in traffic, you know how that works sometimes, Jill."

She nodded in agreement, put both hands on the cup that stood in front of her and shrugged once on one shoulder before she raised herself up from the chair.

"I'm just going to go grab some tea, I'll be right back."

And when she was gone from her spot I got a direct view of Connor and Sanders who sat at the table behind us; laughing, and definitely talking louder than they had to. After watching them my gaze found Troy who sat next to them, followed closely behind by Piers where my eyes seemed to want to stay for a little bit longer.

They were talking about something, or it was more like it was just _Troy_ who did; Piers mostly just sat there, looking as if he was agreeing with the things he seemed to say that I couldn't really catch up because of the high noise level in here. It's not like I was snooping or anything; I don't think so at least, but I just didn't like the smile that lout had on his face.

But they are just like any other couple of friends, so this wasn't jealousy, and I am not being possessive.

_Right?_

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

It was as if the first few minutes had stopped for a while when Jill was suddenly standing beside me with a hand on my shoulder, ready to put herself in the chair again.

"Nothing. How's the tea?"

I turned down my eye, drummed a little discreetly with my fingers against the table and felt that she turned around in her curiosity a few seconds after she had finished sitting down.

"Wait, isn't that the kid living in your apartment? Piers Nivans, am I right?"

She turned back to me when she said it, raised an eyebrow a bit before she took a few seconds to let the corners of her mouth come up again. "The tea is delicious, by the way. Strawberry flavor."

"Yeah."

"Why doesn't he come sit with us?"

"Forget it, Jill."

She went silent for a moment, and I don't know whether it was my hearing that played a prank on me or if this was indeed the case, but it was how I experienced it.

"Why? Something happened between you two?"

I sighed while I suddenly got that feeling of the too many pair of eyes watching me from the background, and in the corner of my own pair of eyes I saw _them_. I saw the way Troy fixed his scarf, put the grips on it together, and I felt that there was something in that blond kid's smile that gave me this lump to my throat.

I also realized that perhaps it was _me_ who wanted to be in his place; simply just fixing his scarf, trying to do it in the _right_ way; which I certainly don't think he was, smiling next to him like some kind of fool.

I really needed to get out of here, _A.S.A.P._

"Chris?"

I rose from the site, completely forgetting that Jill was talking to me so I was just about to turn my back against her when I actually came to my senses and stopped in the middle of the movement to think hard, but she beat me to it.

"Where are you going?"

"I got to go fix a few things."

"Alright then, I guess I'll call you later."

I nodded, walked away quickly; but not so fast that it would raise suspicions about something, and led myself to the room I used to go to when I felt like being alone for a while. It worked out yesterday, so it would probably work out as well today. I held my hopes up, at least.

I put the laptop on the desk, take a deep breath and start putting my hands to work. A minute later I am interrupted by what I hoped wouldn't happen; a knock at the door. I decided not to give whoever was on the other end of the door a reaction and went on with what I was doing.

The handle began turning on itself and the door opened very slowly as I was just about to say that I was busy until I got a glimpse of _who_ was standing in the doorway. I gave him a gesture to come in, and he did; very quickly, before shutting the door behind him.

I couldn't look at him directly; not when I would pretend that everything is normal, so I turned my eyes down at the computer screen again, pretending like something in it had caught my interest.

"So, Piers, what is it?"

"I need you to sign a paper for me, can you do that?"

"Hand it over."

He gave it to me, I took it without looking up, picked up a pen lying on the desk and snapped it a couple of times before I glanced through the text on the paper before I quickly decided to just sign it and give it back to him.

"Thanks, Captain."

Our hands touched, it only lasted for a second, but it was enough to feel the tension in the air; to feel how it was luring to intrude into all of my senses.

He turned around; prepared himself to leave but we had to ease this tension, so I stood up, extended my arm and put my hand on his shoulder. I probably squeezed it a little harder than I had to, but I just wanted him to stay.

He seemed to have understood my hint as he stopped, turned around and faced me so I had to let go of his shoulder and let those fiery eyes take me to a place where I had to act as if something had set fire to my insides.

I throw him against the wall without giving him any time, letting myself get pushed so far that I throw myself over those pouty lips while holding his hands above his head as all I can feel right now is the taste of something wonderful and guilt.

He manages to turn his face away, or it's rather _I_ who let him do it for a few seconds to give him some kind of freedom in his breathing.

"Chris?"

I ignore it because I want to avoid thinking about the things that get it to turn inside of me, so I put my hands on the sides of his waist and continue what I started but it doesn't last long before everything starts to echo in my head again.

"I know where you were last night."

As expected, he freezes in the middle of our movements, but I'm too close to him to see his facial expressions.

"Yeah, because I told you."

He suddenly leans towards me, and it looks like an attempt to get me to kiss him again, but I keep the distance between our lips this time.

"Did you do this with him?"

"What are you talking about?"

His voice is weak, low, and it almost sounds like a whisper. My heart is in my throat and I honestly start getting afraid of where this is leading.

"You're filthy."

"Yeah, Chris, look at me and tell me that, because I still am not fully recovered."

"Piers, wait, I didn't-

We both got out of order and I don't need to remind myself of how much I regret what I just said when I have the time to see the expression he has on his face as he rushes out the door and slams it behind him.

I sit down on the office chair; bury my face in both hands and sighs deeply.

I am not a man of many tears, but tonight will even I be forced giving in to the power of placing a couple of them myself.


	4. Chapter 4

It takes me a lot not to beat hell into the side of the car door when I step out of it when I get home again, but I get a hold of myself eventually. I realize that I will need it in a good condition, so I actually still have _that_ much awareness left, at least, though that doesn't say very much.

I sigh; decide to just throw the door shut a little harder than usual, trudge my way through snowdrifts up to the house, open the door, walk up three flights of stairs before I end up standing outside my apartment.

I turn the key in the lock and the doorknob and go straight through before I lead myself into the kitchen. Something inside of me pulls me up to the glass cabinet and allows me to take out the first bottle with the strongest content I can find; and so I do, and for the moment; when I don't have the time to think over my actions, it's the only thing that seems reasonable to do.

I throw myself down on the couch, open the bottle and start my sort of careless drinking. It burns me a little in my throat since it was a while since I did it in this way, the most recent time was when I sat on that bar in Edonia, but it's nothing that bothers me.

What would he do if he saw me now? Prevent me? Probably- maybe, I don't know.

It doesn't matter, I would never let him do it anyway. I let him down, I even called him stuff, and he took it in the way that I went to attack against him in a way that he wasn't supposed not take it, and there is no doubt that I deserve this.

This is so typical me, isn't it? Getting everything into a troubled mess. To rewind time to a period I shouldn't want to go back to. That one period where I needed someone to literally grab my hands and help me get up on steady feet.

But the truth is that I didn't really want to get into this shit again; I had been dragged here.

The difference now from then is that this 'someone' would probably not come to my rescue tonight to get me moving again, he was offering someone else his kinds of wonders this time.

I do a twitch to my head at the irony before I continue taking my sips from the bottle I hold in my right hand. My head starts to feel heavy, so I lean back against the support of the couch and close my eyes and soon I can only hear the murmuring in my ears. It is quite calming, come to think of it; well, that is to say _before_ I feel the object in my hand get wrenched away from me.

"What the hell are you doing, Chris?"

I open my eyes, blink a few times to remove the blurring that has formed behind my eyelids and the first thing I encounter is a very familiar face that I have seen since the toddler years. I had almost forgotten that she got hold of a spare key to the apartment yesterday.

"Don't blame the guy Claire, maybe he wants to have some fun."

I hear another voice that I recognize, my half-open eyes turn quickly in that direction. It is still very blurry but I recognize the outline of that stance, that smile; that _hairstyle_ when I see it, so I know who it is.

"Seriously, Leon? Well, I'll tell you this sure isn't the way of having fun that I remember coming from my big brother."

She threw a meaning glance over her shoulder before she put the bottle I had just necked out on the table and sat down on the couch next to me. I felt it weigh down a bit on my right side as a pair of eyes pierced into mine as if they tried to get some kind of eye contact from me, so I turned down my gaze to the ground instead.

"You mind telling me what's wrong?"

Her hand was now on my shoulder, and I was struggling to displace some of this poison that ran through the blood in my veins now. I turn my gaze hesitantly towards her, she still looks hopefully at me, and it makes me wonder if I really _do_ mind telling her what actually is wrong. We used to be able to tell anything for each other and I haven't seen anything to change that fact, so I don't think so.

I take a deep breath, turn down my face for a quick moment, but decide to turn it straight up again before the nausea can grab a hold of me too much and my eyes land directly on Leon who stands in front of me, with just the coffee table in between us for a distance.

He wore a wry- somewhat stupid, smile on his lips, and I tried to lock my gaze on him for a couple of seconds to give him a hint to leave the room; something he didn't seem to understand.

I sigh, break our eye contact and decide it will be to no use.

He has just never been a great shot at understanding hints like that.

"It's Piers."

"Yeah, it was something strange going on with him yesterday, wasn't it? How did that go?"

She should just know. But I don't think she did; not Leon either, for that matter, so I thought a big amount of seconds of what I would answer to that question.

"Not very good."

I looked down at my fingers, went with the method I usually do when I'm in a similar situation. The only downside to it is not to see the reactions from the people sitting next to you; but I don't think I have to see their reactions this time.

"How come? Tell me about it."

"I like him, Claire."

"Yes, Chris, that guy was your partner for months, but what does that have to do with-oh."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a while from all of us; Leon had been silent the whole time, he probably pretended like he didn't even sat there, Claire may have been shocked, and I was quiet because I simply wanted to be.

"Does he know?"

"I think it's best if he doesn't, but I don't know."

What I really didn't know was why I said the opposite of what I actually wanted, but I guess that just didn't matter at the moment. It was probably the way I was forced to act when my brain made me say it.

"Why are you saying that?"

"He's currently running around with some rookie named Troy, so yeah."

"Oh, god.. I'm sorry, Chris."

The way she said it was like a punch straight in my mind, it was as if it wanted to wake me up but didn't quite succeed. Frankly, I don't think there is anything that will succeed in getting me open my eyes to this, despite the fact that everything is obvious.

"Hey Redfield's, don't give up on hope too easily now."

I forgot to keep my gaze downwards when Leon quite unexpectedly let himself be heard in this conversation. Both Claire and looked towards his direction; I a little more discreetly. Claire smiled at him and nodded in agreement as if hope could actually be held up.

"Trust me, Leon, we never do."

She looked at the clock that hung on the wall; sighed lightly before smiling again and shrugged while looking at me.

"We should go, but we'll meet soon again, right?," All of us raise ourselves from the couch and pass through the living room and go out in the hall and stand there for a few seconds to inspect each other until Claire continues. "You take care of yourself now, bro."

She threw her arms around my neck and gave me one of those big hugs of hers, so I hugged her back as much as I do every time she does this. "You do the same, Claire."

When she let go, Leon came up to me and patted me on the shoulder while he blinked lightly with one eye- rather creditably he did it with the eye that is free from the hair, anyway- and smiled.

"And don't forget to fight for that dude, Chris."

I gave a quick nod and a small smile back and walked to the doorway when they went out and locked the door before I went away and sat down again. It had felt quite good to talk a little bit about it, if you thought about it. It still felt like a burden in my chest, of course, but to say _something_ was still a bit of a .. liberation. It didn't even matter that Leon had been there too.

My head slowly begins to ache, so I decide not to resist the need to go into the bedroom and just rest for a little while when I soon after start hearing the sound of footsteps from inside the hall. I think it's just illusions, though, until I no more than ten minutes later hear a loud noise from the bathroom that sounds as if something has been shattered into shambles.

I throw myself off the bed; nearly run into the bathroom and tear up the already half-open door.

"Piers?"

The name falls from my tongue completely naturally, and it is absolutely right. There he stands; in front of a mirror that is broken almost in the center of it. His reflection is the first thing I see when I enter. There is blood there, he looks miserable and I'm wondering what the hell it is that has happened until I looked down at his right hand and realizes that the only reasonable conclusion is that he has bashed it into the mirror.

I really can't see why, though.

"Piers, your hand is-"

"Go away from here, please."

I paused, inspected him for a few seconds. He just let it be, but a few seconds was all I gave him before I went further in and stood by him, pulled out a couple of accessories in the cabinet above and grabbed his hand and bandaged it. Luckily, the damage wasn't too big.

He tried to pull away, but seemed to understand that it wouldn't do any good when I was still standing there. And even afterwards I stood there, behind him, watching his reflection. I guess I got a bit carried away at that moment.

"What was that all about, anyway?"

"I-Well.. I'm sorry."

He hesitated for a long time to answer, he opened and closed his mouth several times before an apology rolled off his tongue, and I got enough to go with that even though I don't really care about getting an excuse for my mirror being broken.

I just wanted to know what pushed him to do what he did.

What gets him to act, and what gets _me_ to act when I put my hands on his hips, letting my lips search wildly on his neck. I take the liberty, even though I know it's the completely wrong time for it. I push him forward, he leans against the sink because he has to do it, and I dip my hands under his shirt as I follow the contours of his perfectly built body.

He grimaces a bit, I look at him through the mirror as I'm feeling guilt and suddenly I see that I just had my hands on a number of large bruises on his torso.

"What did this to you? How did you get those?"

His eyes wander all over the place, it looks like, before he can pin them somewhere and start his open-and-close-mouth play session again.

"I-uh.. I fell while I was running, and well, I hit myself quite badly."

It doesn't look like something that is caused that way, and I don't know if I should believe him, but I don't know what else to do. He leads me on by taking hold of my hands and put them back in place; in a slightly different place this time, however, and unfortunately, I can't resist it.

We seem to have forgotten the concerns against each other for a little while, and I have nothing against it, so I just let it be.

He suddenly turns to face me, taking me in a firm grip and locking our lips together while we're headed out to my bedroom, starting to take off our clothes on the way, and throws us into bed; or it's rather I who throw him down first and then I throw myself over him with his back facing me. The tip of my tongue travel up his neck and I savor the taste of him for just a second before I lead my lips towards his ear and nip the tip of it sensitivily.

"You know this will hurt a bit, right?"

I feel him squrming beneath my weight while I hold him down. I slowly start pushing into him, his face is turned in the mattress, and I'm not sure if I'm a little too hard on him, but the sounds he makes are wonderful and I can't bring myself to stop. I just hope these pleadings aren't actually wills for me to do so. I know I should have prepared him for this; that there is a possibility I shouldn't go any further with the change of pace, but I just couldn't do anything about it. It felt too good.

"You are amazing."

I continue, but there is not for too long before we fall into bed breathlessly on each side.

"You were quite amazing yourself."

He chuckles lightly, grabs his ringing cellphone-which has been ringing the whole time- and dismisses the call. He freezes when he watches the display; I don't ask who it is, though.

He gets out of bed, and even though it is obvious where he is going, I think of a question to ask him.

"Where are you going?"

I half get up from the bed, supporting myself on my elbows and study him with half-open eyes.

"I'm just taking a shower, you stay there."

He smiles, goes back to bed and gives me a little kiss before he goes to the bathroom.

I would like to smile back, but though I'm not responsible, those marks and bruises he wears gives me a sense of responsibility, and I know there is so much that is not right.

My eyelids start to feel way too heavy, and I find it hard to stay awake much longer, so everything around me turns black in just a second.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as I start getting my energy back after having been asleep for perhaps one hour or two I fight my motions and roll over half to the side in my bed while I feel there is no resistance there whatsoever. I know what that means, and I can't help but getting a bit disappointed. I am disappointed that he chose to leave, I am disappointed that I let myself believe- that I am _not_ a better thinker, and that I let myself fall asleep when it seems that staying awake actually came to be an important thing.

But this is the way it usually is. I should be used to waking up to this, confused- or not so confused, actually- in an empty apartment, and I don't see a reason why I'm not, so why do I suddenly feel a pang of disappointment?

Maybe it's because it sounded like he would actually stay here just for a while tonight, or maybe it's simply because it still actually is that time of the day where it is completely dark outside and stars are still bursting with light. That is to say, nighttime.

4:07 am- it even switches to 4.08 while I'm hooking my eyes on it- that is what the alarm is telling me when I am done rolling back to my original position in the bed, and when my hands are done rubbing out some of the blur that has formed behind my eyelids. Where could he have gone at such a late time?

I raise a confused eyebrow while performing a sudden movement so that the bed is creaking loudly before I lie down in the same place and position as before.

I act fully unaware, but I know deep down that I have my hunches. I don't want to have them, and neither do I like having them, but still they're there, haunting my mind like an echo in the wind.

And it's kind of freaking me out.

I shake my head in a quick motion, making it look as if it would shake off these feelings-those hunches I have, while dragging my legs with me to the edge of the bed to let them hang there while I rest my head in my hands.

This is true, isn't it?

He must either have been desperate to get away from here, or that rookie must be even more important than I first thought he was.

I sigh heavily, am just about to get up from the bed when I get hindered by that blur before my eyes again, so I set my fingers to work again to rub away the tired feel away from my eyes. This time feels different, though, and maybe I should start hesitate whether it actually comes from drowsiness or not this time, but I refuse to do it, so I just stop my actions instead.

I try to ignore the facts while I get up, go to the closet, pull a towel out of the drawer and decide to go into the bathroom.

I'm quite paralyzed- almost hypnotized, and I don't want to go back to sleep again, even though I had been able to do it given the time.

My clothes come off, I step into the shower and the water hit me in the face first of all places. It is _freezing cold_ , and somewhere in my actions to change the water's degrees I remember why that is so. _He_ was the last one in here, and he has always told me that he somehow likes to shower with cold water, and now I have witnessed how cold it actually is and I think I'd like to stick to showering with my warm water.

Somewhere in between I forget not to blink, I forget to be ignorant, and something that gives heat to my cheeks is mixed along with the cold. I have a lump in my throat, it hurts behind my eyelids, and it's not that I will admit that there are rivers flowing from my eyes, but it is definitely _something,_ and not even I can hold back a confession like that.

I'm guessing that this wasn't just coming from me simply having woken up recently.

I'm also guessing that _something_ must really like reminding me of this- of _him_ , and of the matters I don't want things to be like.

It's just so ironic when even the water coming from a shower hose begins doing it.

I do it quickly today, however, not because I'm in a hurry, but because I somehow feel trapped in here, and I'd rather pass a feeling like that.

I put on my clothes again, finding it difficult to decide in which room I'll go to before I decide to go to the living room to sit down stiffly on the couch, rolling my eyes at myself, throwing myself quite involuntarily down across the couch instead, for my aching head is weighing me down.

I don't know how long I will last after that, but it's probably not for very long.

But I think I have my reasons.

* * *

 

 When I hear that ringing from my mobile, I know who I can expect, so when I wake up; almost falling off the couch, searching through my pockets to take it out only to see that it seems to be different this time. It's obviously not Jill's number, nor is it Claire's, but I will answer it anyway just to get it over with and because I actually need something that wakes me up for real, and a call might succeed doing that.

I choose to be silent, though; something that the person on the other side seem to want to do also, and just when I'm about to start speaking I start hearing something through the phone.

"Chris Redfield? This is William Lockhart speaking from the-"

"Yeah, I know. So why are you calling?" I said, trying to sound as alert as possible; not quite succeeding.

I hooked my eyes on the clock that hung on the wall. 6.13. I was not in the mood to hear ramblings, or presentations- or whatever, so I had to stop him there. I know who he is at least. I never got a clear picture of him, he is not the most open person in the main office, and why he is calling, I have no idea. So that's what I want to know. Because it is not the first guess I would have had.

"It's about Piers Nivans.", he said it with a stern tone in his voice, and I heard it was something bad about this.

I swallowed hard, Maybe it would start to go up a light on why this conversation was about to begin.

"What about him?"

"I haven't seen you two together very often, the kid seems traumatized and I start to wonder if he can handle working here. I mean, he isn't even on his service today." ,he kept sounding confident of the things he was rabbling on about, yet a little concern could be heard in his voice, and I wondered what that was about.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Shouldn't you be aware of this?"

I sigh deeply, pull my fingers through my hair and shake my head slightly. It doesn't surprise me that he says that, but I wouldn't want something to happen with Piers' position at the BSAA, not when I know what it means to him.

Why isn't he there? He never misses a day like this usually, but this is certainly not a 'usual' day, is it?

"Isn't Troy Winters there either?" I said, realizing how unknowing I sounded.

"Yes, he is here. What is going on, Redfield? It sounds like you don't know where he is."

I was quiet for a few seconds. I had been able to respond directly, but I chose not to do so for the reason that it would sound too obvious. But I think it already did.

"I don't.", I said, letting myself get 'revealed' in some way, and that's pretty much how it felt like, too, strangely enough.

"So he isn't with you?" He said, with suspicion half covering his voice.

"Not right now, no."

I heard a light sigh at the other end of the phone before I felt hesitation get transferred through the other end of the phone. I guess expectations were high here.

"Look, you don't have to come here today, just.. make sure you'll find out more about this. Make it right, okay?" He said, talking almost unnoticeably low.

"I will, thanks."

"Goodbye."

I end the conversation, or _he_ end it first, thinking about what had been said and knew it was just too much past someone else's eyes that were to fix, but I was glad that I didn't need to go there today at least. I was even glad about the fact that Piers wasn't with that _Troy_ at the moment, either. It meant nothing, but still.

I still needed to find out where he was as I have promised that I would do, and I quickly realized that I had my eyes fixed on the cellphone in my hand. It would probably be the easiest way to find out something. I haven't seen his mobile lay around here somewhere, which must mean that he has it with him and .. making an attempt shouldn't make any damage.

I look up his number in my list, decide to call him, but change my mind in the last second to come up with the thought that it might be better to simply send a message so I write one, delete it a number of times before I can send a short and simple one, hoping I don't sound wracking.

**'Where are you?'**

I wait for a while, I have to do it for pretty long while, actually, and I start to wonder whether he'll answer me or not until I finally hear that notification of one new message received.

**'Outside.'**

It wasn't a great answer, but I know why he does this, and I will just have to content myself with that.

**'Are you alone?'**

**'Maybe.'**

I have no idea why he suddenly has become so mysterious, but I just assume that he has no desire to converse with me right now and continue to write a message.

**'Tell me where you are and I'll come get you.'**

**'No.'**

He answers me unnaturally fast, almost faster than Claire has ever done, and she is the fastest person I know to send texts, and it's actually very unusual of him to do so. It doesn't feel too good to know if he gets quicker just to write me a 'no'.

**'Why not?'**

I already know the answer to this inside of me, but I just want to have something to say to him, just _need_ to have something to ask, but I soon realize I may get no reply back. I wait a few minutes until I realize it-until I realize that I may be too much when I'm about to call him, but I have to find out what triggers this. What makes me believe that he will respond to a call but not my last message is unclear, though.

There are several signals, the radio goes on in the background (in my own room, of course) until I realize that the phone call has finally established and everything is quiet on the other end until I hear some kind of noise. It sounds harsh in my ear; it literally cuts, actually, but I don't stop listen, and I keep listening for more, something different. I say nothing, however, although perhaps I should do it.

Maybe I should let him know that I listen to whatever he does, that unfortunately I can make him feel watched through my hearing, but I guess he knows that well already, so why doesn't he say something?

I hear a faint mumbling, it doesn't sound like _him_ , like the person you would expect to hear given the number you've just dialed but- is that..

"Leon? What are you doing with Piers' mobile? What are you doing there at all?"

I hear the silence- how that's even possible, and it was for me and for my auditory senses no trace of his voice here before either, and I find it hard to understand how all of this hangs together. How Piers could write messages to me just a few minutes before to later on hear Leon, which don't really fit in there. What would they do in the same place, and why would he answer his phone, or play so guilty?

"Uh, hi Chris, I.. sort of bumped in to the lad."

"Where are you? Can I talk to him?" I said, with a tone that was meant to tell him that I wanted to squeeze the words out of him.

I wait for a few seconds, it's enough to take a couple of deep breaths and glance around the place before the reaction comes.

"At some diner. It's probably not a good idea, the money's running out on his cellphone and, yeah. You know the drill, Chris. I'll catch up to you later."

"Wait-"

I have no idea what he was talking about but it was clearly fabrications, and before I could say anything else the call was ended abruptly.


	6. Chapter 6

After the call with Leon is ended I stare blankly at the cell phone in my hand for a few seconds and take a deep breath of something that could be deep awe. I'm trying to push away the feeling, try to come up with a possibility that the lie about how the money on his mobile would run out soon was just a lack of something for him to say, that there was _nothing_ about that call that wasn't right.

I want to make this into Leon's inventions, to believe that Piers had nothing to do with it, because that would give me the assurance that he wouldn't do all this to avoid me.

But I don't know. I know nothing about this stuff, I just think it is weird and then I give up on it, but then again; I actually don't believe that _thinking_ has ever been the strongest side of me, and neither do I actually believe I've ever even been in a situation like this before. I have practically been to hell in some of my missions, fought devils on my way there, got myself into deep shit sometimes but I've never really felt the urge for something that it seems I will have to make a run for. Not like this. Because- hell, that is what it is, isn't it?

I have an urge for him, and perhaps that was the reason we were doing the things we did yesterday. He was giving in to me because he felt _my_ urge, the way _I_ kind of wanted it to be, and now he is walking away to possibly show me that it was nothing.

And I think he's doing a damn good job with it.

I sigh, comb my hair with my fingers and internally- I _scream_.

And in that moment, I hear the sound of my cell phone, I could have either just thrown it out the window or destroyed it for that moment, but I looked at it anyway because I wanted to see what it was, and this time it was Jill.

' **I know you have a time off and everything but I would really want to talk to you, I go off at 10 today so you're an angel if you drive here and wait for me outside the building**. **Text me if you won't.** '

I know I didn't really want to do this with my current mood, with my current state of mind, but it might sustain me. I shrug, get up, grab the car keys from the table and throw myself out into the hallway until I can toss on my coat and my shoes.

It's still a bit early but if I'm going to do something I might as well start doing so right away.

 

The minus degrees enter the car when I finally arrive at the headquarters. I might have run the car a little too slow, and perhaps that is the reason, but I still make up my mind on going out from the car, so it doesn't play such a big role anymore.

I open the car door and am directly torn by a fierce gust of wind that wakes me up and somehow throws up my half-closed eyes and after that I follow the path, half run with determination against the building, ignoring the fact of not having to come here today, going straight into the door.

In my head I can technically hear the seconds pass me by. Perhaps it's because it is completely still where I stand; it would have been a bit louder, a bit busier if I just went a little further on in the hallway, but I keep standing there; keep holding my straight position, until I see motions in the corner of my eye. It's a bunch of people, and they greet me so I nod in response, and they seem to have moved on but that is until I notice that one of them has stopped.

I turn my head a bit to the left. Blonde hair, the same hopeful smile as usual and gray eyes who meet me instantly-

It's hard not recognizing this kid.

"So, do you know where he is now?"

First, I would almost want to say that I don't have a clue what he's talking about, that he is just making a fool of himself by any means, but it hit me like a flash in my head that I actually know exactly what he's talking about, and that it actually doesn't sound completely stupid, so I just nod slowly before I can push an answer out of myself.

"Kind of, yeah."

"And?"

I study him for a few seconds, notice that I'm not making it that much longer with what I should have said, but he waits patiently. Something inside of me makes me think a little extra over what I should actually say, and if I even want to remain standing here, but is it even something to discuss?

"Well, to be honest I don't know exactly where he is but I guess we'll find that out soon enough."

He attaches his eyes at me for a moment, his smile stiffens and I didn't notice until now that he has his hand on my shoulder, but he lets it go quickly, replacing it with leaning slightly towards me and there's something about that expression on his face throughout this act which brings the cold outside into this room.

"Yeah I guess so, and when we do you better make damn sure you'll stay away from him _Cap'n_ , and I mean that with all due respect."

He snaps, that accent shines through, he remains where he is and I do the same even though I don't just want to stand there as if my role has been taken by someone-and especially not by this guy. It is enough that he is acting like he has the upper hand on everything else. I would normally not allow it, but he has chosen an occasion where he knows I can't defend this as well as usual and he knows it.

"And why would I do that?"

"He won't need you to screw up his life like you have already done with yours."

He walks away with those words, but it still echoes in my head and I start to get a lesson in if that is actually the way it is. I want to know what this means, but I don't want to dig deeper into this- don't want to know that there may be ways for him to get these things to say- not right now at least, so I start walking completely unprovoked around the corridor instead. It's like a walk in back and forth- pastime, simply, before I remember that I am supposed to stand outside the building, so I throw open the door and walk a few feet to stand there.

It's snowing and the wind is blowing so hard that my coat almost go off of me and I have to hold it against me for it not to do so- but it isn't 10 pm yet, so I have nothing to complain about.

I look down towards the ground, forming circles in the snow with my shoe for a few seconds, and it seems that it was enough for her to come jogging towards my direction, or well-, she was already here when I saw, heard- or felt that she was here, I'm not sure what happened first.

"Chris!"

She hugs me, I can feel that she offers me a big smile and I smile the best I can in return.

"Jill. Was is something you wanted to talk to me about?"

We let go of the hug, she looks up at me, making a gesture that we should go to the car so we are slowly walking towards the parking lot while we both take the time to breathe deeply, at least it sounds like it.

"Not something in particular, or well.. If it is, I'm sparing that for our lunch, alright?"

She laughs easily as she continues to walk while increasing her pace a little and I can't help but sigh lightly in exchange. I know she didn't mean anything by it, and had this been another day, another time I would probably have felt differently about it- about everything.

She slows down, turns to me and looks at me with a puzzled look behind the smile that persists and I know that she has noticed my behavior, my hints and my sighs. But I will let her respond with words first.

"What? Oh, don't come tell me you have other plans, Chris."

I think for a few seconds, meets her gaze, a part of me considers saying that I actually have it in this moment- the other part tells me that she'd probably find out that it isn't so eventually.

"Nah, it's just.. never mind."

"Well come on then! I am freezing."

She rubs her clad hands together before she grab ahold of my wrist and makes an attempt to pull me away before she dips one hand in my pocket and I'm just wondering what she was doing before she pulls out my car keys with a proud smile.

"Looks like I'm driving, by the way."

I shake my head, smile, don't really understand why she does it but I don't protest against her before we quickly begin to walk towards the parking lot.

* * *

 

"Uh, where exactly are you driving us, Jill? I don't even recognize this road."

I looked through the window in front of me in the car, or at least the things I could see through the window, there was a snowstorm outside now and the plasters that were wiping the fog off on the glass stole my attention, I thought put me in some sort of hypnosis. But luckily enough it just managed to make me feel a little dazed.

Jill sat on my right side; throwing her head to one side in a quick motion. Maybe it was to get a glimpse of my direction, to give me a playful, but wondering look- or maybe it had no explanation, whatever it was it woke me up from that little hypnosis, and it made me look towards her direction instead.

"Relax, Chris, have you never been to the supermarket? We need to buy some food for lunch, right?"

She raises the volume on the radio, I lean back in the seat, decide to not say much about the whole thing and decide to just nod slightly on my head without really knowing whether she sees it or not.

We arrive in just a few minutes, she parks the car and we jump out from each side leaving the seats empty before the storm meets us and bite into every part of us that isn't lined by thick winter clothing.

She meets me at the other side, throws the keys to me again and is thinking the same thing I do; that we should move quickly those tens of meters as it might be up to that big entrance, but I see something to stop me before them automatic doors do it- before the heat inside of the store does it.

What stops me is something that wears a leather jacket, a scarf, black jeans and it is difficult not to find out who it is when I see him. He doesn't seem to have the same thought about me when he throws a quick glimpse at me and try to quickly go away, though, even though he is only a few feet away from me.

I actually forget that Jill is already waiting at the entrance when I go from there to go after that agent. It hadn't been so important to greet him if it hadn't been for the call earlier. The fact that he seemed this ignorant now only increased my curiosity.

It doesn't take too long before I catch up with him and have a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you in a hurry, Leon?"

He turns around, looks almost hidden scared behind that self-confidence. I can suddenly feel more than only his eyes watching me and in the corner of my eyes I see Jill standing beside me, she must have noticed that I caught sight of Leon and walked up to him.

"Oh hi Chris, I almost missed you there. No, I wouldn't say that."

He put his weight on his second leg, holds the bag he has harder against him and there is silence from our direction for a few seconds that feels longer than that while I figure out a first-issue question.

"Yeah, I saw that."

I don't say it very loud, but he nods in meaning, both to show that he heard it and probably to show that there is nothing more to say, but I really have other plans. "I have to ask you, Leon, did he tell you about where he went when you left or anything else?"

"Who?"

He freezes, it looks like he's trying to hide it again with a rather silly smile and a puzzled look, but I can see it. Jill coughs lightly, but I don't have time to think about whether she wants to have anything to say about it.

"Piers. When I called him on his cellphone you answered, remember?"

"Oh- yeah, about that.. you know."

"What do I know?"

Now it was _I_ who froze, not because he said that I 'knew' but because he acted like this again. It brought me back those suspicions from that conversation again, and when he stood in front of me and told me about it this way..

"It's really complicated, Chris.", He almost mumbles.

"Then start by explaining it to me.", I growl.

He sighs and turns his face a bit to look at something else. I feel that Jill is still standing like a statue next to us like she didn't know where she would go, and perhaps it was that way we all felt at the moment. At least _I_ did.

"He wasn't with me; I only had his cellphone so it was me who sent you those texts, too. Look, I only did it because-"

"Goddamnit Leon!"

I knew that something had been wrong, but that something had been _this_ out of order, I could never have thought. And it only was to get worse when I thought deeper into what this _really_ meant. It made no great miracle for my mood, not in the right direction, anyway.

"I know, but I did it for your sake." He sounded almost guilty, and maybe he should- I don't know.

"For my sake? How the hell could this be for-"

"Chris. There's some kind of investigation going on, they might be taking him away and I don't know half of it, but something tells me he has been involved in something bad."

I swallowed hard, knew that something within me chimed in what he said before what he _actually_ said came to my senses.

"What? An investigation? Who are taking him away and where?"

"I'm not sure, but you may know who started this."

My eyes were looking past him, everything was blank, black, and it didn't _feel_ much different either. I didn't know if I would trust Leon who lied so much to me but I had nothing else to go on at the moment.

A vibration in my pocket was felt and I pulled it out just to break this pattern of staring out of the blue. I noticed that they followed my movements and I froze a little further when I read on the screen that it was a message from Piers.

Without looking at it I looked up again, thinking it could impossibly get any stranger than this.

"Where did you leave Piers' cellphone when you were done?" ,I met his gaze while speaking.

He drew his fingers through his hair, seemed to think deeply about it even though it couldn't have been long ago.

"I really don't remember that, why?"

I ignore his little 'why?' for a second, am not quite sure I even heard it and let my fingers work on the mobile screen instead, and let the message I just received be shown.

 **'Help me.** '

The blood in my veins freezes. It's only two words, but it's definitely enough to make me feel helpless. Maybe it's because I can make a guess that it actually is _him_ this time, and this may mean something, in connection with what Leon actually said.

I can feel that four eyes inspect me far too closely so I'm forced to look up quickly, before I unhesitatingly turn around to leave.

"Uh, nothing. I have to go."

"Chris? I'm coming with you.", Jill sounded puzzled, she has already made herself ready to follow when I started going, actually it sounded like Leon did the same thing.

"No- just, no. I'm sorry." I said it with a tone to let them know I couldn't let them follow.

Without any more words I kept half running towards my car and they remained where they were. It seems like they understood the hint but certainly not why I acted like this, and they didn't have to know.

If those signals are true I need to get going, and that is all that matters for the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

I throw myself back into the car, I notice the keys are already in my right hand when I fumble with them for a second, leading them to the place where I can try my best to let them be the source to get the motor running- but I'm getting no reaction whatsoever from this thing, so I guess it seems to be to no good at all.

I sigh- feel like screaming for a second that will-most certainly, turn into a longer amount of time, perhaps even minutes until I actually can get quite a hold of myself to realize the things around me.

My left hand is clenched around the cell phone; I'm almost abusing the now black screen and the sides of it with my fingertips, making an attempt to get it lightened up again- but once again, that seems to be to no good at all, and I feel like I am back to square one again until finally- and I mean _finally_ I hear the beautiful sound of a motor-a car that is soon starting to build up speed.

Actually, it sounds terrible, and the noise is way louder than it usually is, but I can make an acceptation for that this time because all I am hoping for is that this increasing volume or whatever it is doesn't mean that the vehicle will start laying off during the ride.

Well, it's not all I'm hoping for at a time like this- I'm not even sure it's the most important thing, but I shouldn't be thinking like this, because then _maybe_ something would make it happen, and- and the point is I can't let it happen, because I really- sincerely, need this.. thing, this _car_ , to go to my location. To the location I want to go to.

To him- to Piers. Because apparently he's in trouble and that's simply why I momentarily need to hope for something else than just not getting stuck outside, in the cold winter weather- because that itself wouldn't have been the point.

But now I'm doing what people would probably call alright since my car is driving in its fastest speed, and I just may get there pretty soon until I start questioning for a tiny second where I am _actually_ headed to- where the location actually is set.

I regain the firm grip I once had around the mobile that now lay on the empty seat next to me, am just about to bring it closer to me, send him a message to know just where he is until I hear the steel hit the floor faster than my reactions are capable to react to.

I shake my head rather wildly; realize that apparently, it wasn't meant to happen, so I lay both my hands on the steering wheel again while making up a quick decision in my mind to head for home without having enough seconds to reconsider it an extra time- thinking of the things that this may cost me.

But it's not like I have any other choice now, is it?- Or maybe it's all just about me giving up too easily, because that is definitely what Piers would have told me if-

But he isn't _actually_ here, so I inhale deeply, let my fingers nervously drum the steering wheel; realizing how little it takes for me to get unfocused.

Finally, I let all the air out of my lungs- making it sound like a sigh, when it feels like they are going to explode and my head are starting to ache.

It doesn't really matter that he isn't here, though- I am still going to follow the advice I'm –sure- he would give me, because I'm _not_ giving up on this- and I'm glad I am physically reacting the same way as I put the pedal to the metal once again.

* * *

 When I arrive at my apartment I start by jumping out of the car- that is to say when I have catched the cell phone that was lying on the floor in it, checking very quickly and briefly if I hadn't got any notifications- any messages or missed calls that I wouldn't want to miss before I run towards my goal.

At least what I _think_ is my goal.

He could as well be anywhere.

I open the door, run up the stairs and by habit I search up my own apartment. I could have just carelessly broken the door in, screamt his name if I thought about his previous message and about how he could have be in need of my help right now. But then again, that wouldn't be of any help at all- so I didn't.

I kept calm, put the keys in, turned a few times until the door unlocked and _then_ I could open it as carelessly I wanted to- I don't mind screaming his name, though, just in case.

It's awfully quiet in here, so somehow I am already starting to lose hope in him being here, but I pass the hall, and there are no traces of him yet, so I pass the kitchen and it's the same thing there, but when I later on go into the living room I _can_ actuallysee him sit there on the couch- even though it is very dark in here.

My first impression is that I must have read those messages wrong- that they must have come from another person, probably have been sent to the wrong person too. But then again- that _is_ very farfetched.

And he's still staring out of nowhere.

"Piers? You texted me?"

I stand beside him; watch him for a second, he doesn't seem to make a reaction at all, so I go a few meters to turn the lights on. When I turn to him again his face is even more turned to the left but other than that he doesn't carry much of an expression.

"I'm fine.", He mumbles.

I take that as a confirmation to my question but not to what he actually said, so I'm far from pleased with just this.

"Are you sure? You don't seem like it."

He holds his head down low, in that quite odd sideward position while he just nods, and I'm not really sure what he's referring to as he is doing so.

I sit down next to him, he freezes abruptly in whatever small motions he may have done before that and he never looks at anything else than that thing to his left side.

"Look at me."

He shakes his head.

"Come on."

"Go away, Chris."

Suddenly I snap, laying my hand beneath his jaw, turning his head towards me ignoring his tiny whimper and his struggle, and it's mostly because I don't have any plans on going anywhere before I get an explanation.

What I'm being met by is telling me everything that message was being sent for.

Bruises are covering his left eye, he has tiny scars on his cheek and suddenly I get a flashback on something I have seen before.

"Oh god- Piers, what is this?"

He doesn't say anything- doesn't _need_ to say anything, it only looks as if he shrugs on one shoulder and that is enough to answer that question.

"Is it my fault? Was I too late?" ,I keep saying.

His eyes snap at that part, and he actually looks at me for a second. I don't think I need to have more of an answer than that.

"What are you talking about?"

"This could have been prevented if I was getting here faster."

"Nah."

He's avoiding me in his way of speaking, I can hear that he doesn't really have the energy to speak to me so after that we both turn quiet for a while- but only for a few seconds until I know there is more I need to ask.

"This time you need to tell me, though. Who did this to you?"

I glare at his direction- he pretends to play with his own hands, patience starts running off of me and I know he has heard my question but you can't even be sure of that the way he looks until he open his mouth and looks as if he's going to start talking, or say something at least.

"I did."

"Oh come on."

"What?"

He turn his face against me for a second to watch me through narrowed eyes then back down again, almost as if he had done something wrong. I never know what, though.

"You didn't do that to yourself, Piers."

"Well, that's my answer, Chris."

"Just stop this bullshit."

"Why?"

With a sigh I turn my gaze away from him to look at the floor beneath me and start doing the same things with my hands as he does.

"I want to hear the truth."

"I already told you I-"

"Yes you told me, and I don't believe you, so who the hell is it that you protect? Because you clearly didn't beat yourself up like this so just- stop."

I know I sound a bit harsh, but it all depends on the fact that I want to dig deeper in how all of this could happen.

"And how can you tell that? You weren't even- I-"

He starts talking weakly, but I disturb him in it by taking his face in my hands and turn it toward my direction to see right through him. He doesn't struggle as much this time, and I know it's because he doesn't have as much energy as he would need to do that either.

"Is it Troy? Because you know I can smash the guy's face in."

He reacts at that, breaks our tiny moment of eye contact, turns his face away and I feel like I am being pushed away mentally-well, physically too, actually, even though he isn't technically laying his hands on my chest to make a larger distance between us.

And suddenly, I feel like I have all the answers I need.

"No." ,He says, or more like whispers, and I can hear the obvious struggle in his voice.

"But why didn't you tell me?"

I bring myself just a few inches closer to him, I don't know if he notices since he is far from watching my direction, but I top that by laying a hand on his shoulder- so he can't miss it, and he instantly starts to shift.

"I said no!"

He raises himself from the couch with such speed that my eyes almost never have the time to catch the moment before he is standing up, and my hand feels like it has been hit by a block of ice when it actually was just a gust of wind.

I usually never think about my actions when they are happening this quickly, so I desperately search after his hand with my own to seek some time.

"You know, you don't have to do this- protect him like this. Nothing will happen, I'll make sure of it, okay?"

I know he is thinking of a way to get past me at first, but when I'm still holding his hand in a firm grip he understands that it won't be that easy- so he does the thing I usually do- he sighs, turns his head to me slightly and looks at me with eyes that express emotions I can't seem to read.

"You don't understand, Chris. This doesn't mean anything, so just leave it- alright?"

"But we can fix this-"

"Leave me alone."

And so I do something I didn't think I actually would do, but when I feel the struggling he is making with his right hand, I feel like that's what I have to do.

"Piers- _baby_.."

I make the last part unnoticeable for him to hear- actually, it's almost impossible for me to hear it either. And I am surprised I said it- I don't even know how it slipped out of me- but it did, and I guess whatever damaged it would have caused is just done now, without further complications.

Another damage that is made is he running out of the room- out of the outer door, faster than I would ever want him to- but then again, I would never imagine me to even _want_ him to leave.

The only thing I really want is for things to get fixed- and I don't even know what I _really_ mean by that.

But I guess it's this 'Troy'- thing, or whatever I should call it- because it was always about Troy, wasn't it?

And I'm not even sure what I mean by _that_ , either.


	8. Chapter 8

There are only oh so many times in life a man like me has to prepare for the terrors that lure behind the corner- I mean, that's both part of our job and part of who we are- What I never expected to be part of the contract when I signed up for getting the title, though- and I mean _never,_ was to ever get to face a terror like t _his_.

I hear- or at least I think I hear, a quite loud noise at the front door, so I turn my glare at that direction quickly from where my seat is on the couch. I am still for several seconds- I guess I'm wishing something would actually happen, that someone would actually get in through that particular door- but it doesn't happen this time either.

I sigh. If only someone could have told me this was going to happen before it actually _did_ happen. But that is, of course, not possible and it doesn't change the fact that he has left- cut off the ropes between me and him, and probably won't ever be back.

I stretch myself across the table, grab the cigarette pack in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.

Because it's the realization of how incredibly hard _this_ seems to be to me while it seemed almost too easy to him that makes me do whatever the things I'm doing right now.

He disappears from my reach once again. It's not the first time he's doing it to me, it has happened before.

I open the bottle very carelessly, some of the contents are spilled out on the table but I neither have the patience or energy to get bothered. Instead I let the sharp taste of alcohol fill my senses, my throat quickly starts burning, but it's far from enough to distract me yet.

This should just be another 'second time', and I should be used to it by now, but it's far worse than that and I'm not used to it- probably never going to be anyway.

The fact that I considered calling him, perhaps doing some more drastic stuff, too, a number of times during these three measly days he's been away-at _Troy's,_ certainly, is a reason why I'm not used to it, at all.

I twitch my neck, lie my suddenly very heavy head against the headrest on the sofa and look up toward the blinding light which immediately gets my attention. I can barely keep my eyes open because of how strong it is and how much it hurts behind my eyes, but without any interruption I stare at the light.

Well, the point is that I put what _he_ wanted in first place, right? Even if it means that he is with some _shithead_ who I know beats him up.

I freeze, feeling more than quite stiff in every part of my body. I have consumed the contents of the bottle quite well in a very short amount of time. Considering to continue with it, I follow it through before I have the time to just think about doing it any longer.

I can feel how I'm slowly not tensing anymore, and I don't know whether that's good or not since my mind is pretty much floating away while I see- or feel, how the bottle is turning almost empty, like something is provided from doing so. I lose control, I don't actually know what caused it, or what I really mean, but my control is gone.

I hear echoes in my head, feeling like I will fall even though I'm sitting. And the moment everything is gone, including the stuff I just drank, I can hear _him_ shouting to me-crying for my help, repeating them two words I read in that text message of dread just three days ago.

It feels too real to be true- to be normal. And that's exactly what it is. It's not true, it's not normal, and he's not here talking to me, but it's something about that that makes me lose the mount-something that makes me break loose.

I hit the bottle against the edge of the table of pure reflex in belief that it will keep my imagination away. It succeeds while one of the glass shards gives me a small wound on the wrist. I am sustained enough, until I hear the distant sound of the cell phone in my pocket, trying to get my attention.

And it sort of does get my attention, eventually. But there's more of the angry side of me who choose to fumble with my hands to toss it up, it's more like getting it to be quiet instead of answering.

Though I always look who it is calling, just in case.

It doesn't feel like it's the first time disappointment washes over me when I- for some reason- aggressively choose to reject the call by a quick clicking on the screen.

And that brings me peace for a few measly seconds, until I- once again, see the notification on the screen and hear the same ringtone which right now has the capacity to drive me mad.

The process is repeated over and over again until I get enough of doing it, and press the opposite button instead that connects me to this call that I have been dragged into.

"Wha- what the hell is it-", I yell, or more like _try_ to say, sounding completely uncoherent getting cut off as a quick moment of memory loss strikes me, I'm already forgetting what I should be asking- I guess it's the alcohol working its magic.

"Hey- calm down, Chris. What the hell is what?", Leon speaks out, with a pitch in his voice that tells me he's- I don't know- stressed, somehow.

"Forget it." I say- sighing, trying to put whatever that is left of my sense together.

"Something happened, pal?", Leon wonders.

"N- Huh?", I mumble to the mobile.

"Not to be rude or anything, but you sound like shit."

I hold the phone a few inches farther away from me, I don't need many seconds to stare at nothing, even less do I need them to realize how right he is.

"Chris?", Leon continues.

Has something _really_ happened?

Apart from me realizing that I collapsed the same minute he stepped outside of that door and gave me this judgment, or whatever.

It's not like we didn't actually see this was coming, was it?

Well, perhaps.

Should it still be labeled as something that has happened?

I don't know.

"No." ,I finally state.

"Alright, if you say so. Actually-"

"He asked for my help."

"Who?", Leon asks, sounding completely unknowing.

"He- he wanted my help, and I couldn't give it to him."

I can hear how Leon is still breathing into his mobile- how he's staying on the other end of the line, so I decide to give him a moment- I don't know for what exactly, but it's what I do if I feel I have to.

I pull out a cigarette and a lighter- lights it, and pulls a deep puff of smoke into my lungs.

"I don't even know _why_ I couldn't do anything, I just couldn't,", I continue, am almost forgetting to breathe in the process which leaves me half choking on my own air, coughing. "I wasn't there in time. Sounds pathetic, doesn't it?"

Not even these actions of mine are giving me any reaction. I'm not sure if he's just thinking of something to say, if I'm overreacting or if his silence is a result of what I said, but no matter what it is, it's making me crazy. That is to say, even _crazier_ than I felt before- and that is saying a lot.

"Goddamn it Leon, say something!", I yell.

"He's missing."

"What do you mean 'he's missing'?", I ask, with a slight faltering to my voice- because suddenly, I can't seem to help it.

-Not when I can hear Leon sigh heavily on the other end of the phone and my senses suddenly leads me to feel a pang of hopelessly. Although I actually don't even know what he means, or _who_ he means.

Because I don't, right?

"Listen, Chris… Piers has recently been reported missing. I-", Leon begins saying, sounding barely audible at first.

"W-wait.", I cut him off.

"Yeah?"

I push myself further down into the couch and tighten my grip around the mobile-so hard that my hand almost starts to ache, giving me permission to freeze time for a while. At least _I_ am standing still and the world around me goes at high speed.

Because if I hadn't been standing still, I would have noticed something wasn't right, wouldn't I?

"This can't be right.", I say quietly- almost like a whisper, as if it was spoken to myself.

"You have any idea of where he might be?"

"With Troy."

It doesn't take much reflection, and while I answer, the first thing I think about is of course that shithead, my second thought is that how I unfortunately now have no clue of where he might be, the third is that I can't at all rely on Troy and that my belief is actually true.

I can't help but think back on how battered he was- at whoever had done it to him, feeling a shiver down my spine mixed with fear as great as my belief.

"Are you sure?", Leon asks.

I think of that moment he stormed out the door, and all I could feel was anger flowing out of him. He didn't say where he was going- he didn't say much at all, but I could feel it.

Does that give me enough proof to know that's where he is?- to tell that's where he remained all this time?

Could he even be somewhere else?

"No." I say- weakly, not fully sure if I want Leon to hear it.

If not gone- _missing._

"Then it's not enough.", Leon says, determined.

I nod, make it look as if he could see me answer him by the cellphone. I guess it is my odd way of stopping myself from breakdown-from a total collapse.

"Hey, we'll work together in this, Chris. Alright?", He continues, with a sort of soft tone in his voice.

"Yeah. Thanks, Leon."

"Look, I gotta go, but I'll call you. And as soon as something pops up, you call me too. Okay?", Leon says, sounding stressed yet assuring.

"Got it."

"We'll find him, Chris."

Things becomes too much for me to handle so I press off our call without a word, still holding the phone locked tightly in my hand, closing my eyes while taking a deep breath, holding it there until I see nothing but black and I'm forced to gasp for air.

I knew letting him go meant trouble.


End file.
